


Crossroads

by Kherakah



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: In which I throw down words until I get some semblance of a story, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Rated T for Squalo's potty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8042434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kherakah/pseuds/Kherakah
Summary: Dino’s bad at being rebellious; Squalo’s bad at saying goodbye.





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think this happened right before the Cradle Affair, and Dino didn't hear from his best friend for eight years.  
> (This can be interpreted as romantic or platonic, pick your poison.)

It’s just that Dino's never done this before, the whole skipping class thing, and yet here he is looking terribly out of place with his floppy green jacket and bandaged knees. All it takes is the teacher across the hall to open the door to her classroom and they'll both be caught with no excuses. But that’s okay, Squalo reassures him, everyone at this school is too terrified of getting sliced into sushi for the two of you to get in trouble. (Dino secretly disagrees; he likes to think he's never been afraid of his best friend.)

 

It's just that it came as a bit of a surprise when Squalo grabbed his hand and pulled him out of class into the hallway, papers flying. He's standing next to Dino now, a silhouette in the dim hallway, paused to pull a pair of thick black markers from his bag. Squalo’s wearing gloves, and fumbles with the zip for a minute, scowling. Dino slides down onto the floor, feeling the cold lockers against his back; he tries to will his heartbeat slower.

 

It’s just that the two of them make such an unlikely pair, loser Dino and vicious Squalo; he's known it for a while but there never were two people so unfitting to be friends. Dino is clumsy, has shoelaces that can’t seem to stay tied, lives off of candy and soda, is scared to even look at a weapon, eats lunch on the school roof, has no idea what to do with his future. Squalo is brash, can kill without a second thought, has grades almost as perfect as his hair, curses enough to make a nun faint, has never been anything but confident, hates the weak, is friends with Dino.

 

It's just that Dino had been worried about him, hadn't seen him in a while. Romario had warned that the Varia changes people, that he wouldn't be the same best friend Dino had shared countless memories with. But here he is, tall and loud and just so undeniably _Squalo_ that Dino forgets why he was so worried in the first place. This is fun, he had missed this, missed him.

 

“Come on!” Squalo grins, holds out a hand to pull Dino up. “Don’t you want to make a mark on this shitty school? Don’t you wish you made a difference?” Dino wants to reply no, not really, that he’d rather make a difference with his grades, but the enthusiasm is contagious so Dino smiles, takes his hand.

 

"Where were you, Squalo?" Dino asks as the two of them run down the hall.

  


Squalo looks back, still holding his hand. "Hey, weren't you paying attention earlier? I told you that I'd be living with the Varia now. After all, I am an essential member now that I’m the Sword Emperor." he's proud, trying to show off. "Besides, I don't have time to babysit a brat like you anymore!"

  


"I can take care of myself, y'know." Dino announces, knocking over a stack of chairs. Squalo raises an eyebrow, pulls him up the stairs and then they are on the roof.

 

It's sunny, and Dino squints, stumbles artlessly onto the rough concrete surface. Squalo’s waiting, has reached the edge of the roof, is balancing like a trapeze artist with arms held out. Dino sits next to him, fingers gripping the floor tightly as if even a gust of wind could blow him away (knowing his luck, it isn’t too far-fetched). Squalo’s talking to him, something about his new boss and the missions he’s been going on, eager to share just how wonderful his life is. Squalo has a sword buckled to his waist now, carries it wherever he goes. Dino wonders if it’s the same one Squalo used to defeat the Sword Emperor, wonders how many men have met their end by that blade. Dino remembers when Squalo used to carry around a first aid kit, would sit on this same roof bandaging both of their injuries and talking about battle scars. The sun feels really nice right now though. He closes his eyes just as something hits his head, nearly knocks him over.

Squalo’s got a marker in his hand, has just tossed Dino the other, looks practically bloodthirsty. He pulls out a can of spray paint from his bag, this hideous orange color that already hurts Dino’s eyes.

“C’mon brat. We’re gonna fuck this school roof up so badly they’ll build a statue in our names!” Squalo’s yelling now, brandishing the paint like a sword. He pops the cap open, sprays the letter S on the roof. _God_ , Dino thinks, _the paint looks even worse on concrete._ So he takes a marker, begins to draw while Squalo sprays profanity all over the school roof. They work in silence, only speaking when Squalo asks Dino whether it would be more offensive to call the headmaster a “fat pig” or a “lonely old bastard”. Dino looks down, realizes that he’s an idiot and he probably shouldn’t have graffitied the Cavallone coat of arms onto the school roof.

“Wow. You’re an idiot.” Squalo confirms.

  


“I’m so sorry!” Dino cries, horrified. ”If we get caught here I am probably going to go to jail and you’ll blame me forever and I won’t ever get to have a pet horse or learn how to use a credit card and-”

  


Squalo puts a gloved hand over Dino’s mouth, sprays gaudy orange over an hour of hard work.

“Shut up! You’re being too loud!” Dino thinks that’s pretty unfair considering Squalo probably hasn’t ever spoken under 100 decibels, but he’s distracted by the fact that his friend’s writing on the roof is looking a little weird, a little shaky.

  


“Hey Squalo? Aren’t you usually left handed?” Squalo looks startled, snatches both hands away from Dino.

“Am I not allowed to practice a new skill, brat? Don’t worry about my handwriting, I’d be more worried about the fact that it’s getting close to the end of the day and your only contribution just got covered up by yours truly.” Dino gasps, realizes he’s right and he should probably get working. After all, what’s the point of being in jail for the rest of his days if he doesn’t have something to show for it?

They work for the rest of the day on their masterpiece, this horrifying mess of orange and thick black marker. Squalo, it seems, doesn’t care about getting caught, shamelessly writes Vongola propaganda all over the back part of the roof. Dino doodles horses, flowers, a picture of two kids sitting on the school roof.

“Hey, that one looks pretty badass.” Squalo’s leaning against Dino, watching him draw.

  


“What, this one? Nah, it’s not that great.” Dino blushes, tries to cover it with his fingers.

  


“No, I’m serious; you should get that tattooed or something. Maybe it would make you look like less of a coward for once.” Dino considers it, and then remembers that sometimes he can’t even comb his hair without crying. He decides against it for now. When he’s drawn so much his hand begins to cramp, Dino finally puts down the marker. The sun is setting over the city, and the orange light makes their work look a bit better, maybe even good enough to be called art.

Dino brings his feet to his chest, closes his eyes. “Hey Squalo?” he’s mumbling, half asleep already “This is nice.” And it really is.

 

* * *

 

 

When Dino wakes up his cheek is pressed against the concrete. It’s dark, and it takes him a moment to remember he’s on the school roof, alone, and he probably needs to call Romario before every police officer in the city is out looking for him. There's no trace of Squalo besides the paint, already chipping off the floor and walls. Dino sits up, ignores headache he knows is coming. He pulls his phone out of his bag to find several missed calls (from Romario) and one text. He already knows what it says, he’s seen it countless times before.

  
_Dino, I’m on an incredibly important mission. Will bring you a souvenir. Sorry._

 

And Dino’s pissed because he thought this time it would be different and maybe Squalo would stay over like he used to and maybe decide he’d rather be Dino’s friend than some sort of assassin. And Dino’s confused since it’s really hard to stay mad at Squalo because he can’t remember the last time Squalo apologized, or even called him by his real name. And Dino’s tired and hungry and Romario’s calling him again so he really should just pick up.

 

“I hate Squalo.” he says over the sound of his ringtone, and for a moment he's half convinced that it's true. It’s just that he’s never been a good liar.

**Author's Note:**

> Tiny fic dedicated to all the friends who put up with my constant KHR rambling and somehow love me more for it; I’m not sure how I got this lucky.


End file.
